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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868307">Shower Me With Kisses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enterthetadpole/pseuds/Enterthetadpole'>Enterthetadpole</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rhett &amp; Link</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Shower Sex, So So Much Shower Sex, Understanding Feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:34:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868307</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enterthetadpole/pseuds/Enterthetadpole</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A week of sexy showers slowly reveals what both Rhett and Link really want from each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Monday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/redtessa/gifts">redtessa</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Seven chapters. </p><p>Updated as of 1/18/2021. </p><p>As always, thank you for your love and support. Be safe, and stay Rhinky. &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time was an accident.</p><p>Not really, but that’s what Link told himself all that time Rhett was practically writing his name with the tip of his tongue. As he dotted the <em> I’s </em>and crossed the <em> T’s </em>in that ticklish spot right above Link’s adam’s apple the letters <em> I Need This </em>over and over again. </p><p>The way that time smoked and stung like those last shots of Fireball Whiskey, and the sex puns went a little too far. How Link’s chest was too small for the way his heart expanded with words. Words that were too soft and smooth and <em> Christ </em>they both needed this, right? Something warm and familiar and wouldn’t talk about it the morning after.</p><p>Rhett was just the type to keep this shut up tightly inside. Like every single other pinkie swear they made with each other with just a look. Glass jars full of promises that had filled up every part of their brains that could manage them. </p><p>Rhett groaned at the sensation of Link’s thumbs as they curled around his sweatpants as he pulled them down. The warm flesh underneath flexed in trepidation of what would happen next and that was enough to grant Link’s heart another flutter. The noise of water as it helplessly splashed against the shower floor as somehow they both ended up surrounded by cream-colored tiles and warmth.</p><p>Best friends don’t find this out this far into their lives together. That their mouths were meant to be pressed into different shapes as they separately decided that drunk sex was the way to spend a Monday off. </p><p>They skipped too many steps. Exploration was meant for teenaged sleepovers or college dorms. Not now when they fretted about 401K’s and defaulted student loans. Yet the way Rhett rumbled when Link’s palm slid down his shaft. The moisture on the tip of his fingers blending with the steam all around. </p><p>“Holy -”</p><p>The rest of Rhett’s sentence was lost in the searing kiss, and Link inhaled until Rhett was gasping for it back. The long fingers twisting into the hair that he had watched turn from a sandy brown to rich mahogany to the streaks of silver that allowed the water to shimmer. How had Rhett not seen this before? That Link’s eyes were the kind of blue that painters spent entire lives trying to replicate. </p><p>Link made a noise, and Rhett echoed it back. Their hands wrapped around each other’s erections and slid up and down in a rhythm. Rhett’s beard dripped with what could have been either sweat or the shower water, and Link was too far gone to care which one it was. </p><p>“Rhett - I’m gonna come,” Link rasped, and Rhett nodded. The throb of need made the room spin as Link groaned and felt the hand speed up and he rolled into his climax. Hips bucked as Link threw out a broken moan and then a ripple of Rhett’s own release spilled against Link’s stomach and legs. The shower nothing but a haze of what happened before and after. Both of them inhaled in and out so many times that the water grew lukewarm, and then icy before they could shift. </p><p>The first time was an accident. </p><p>Not really, but that’s what Rhett told himself when they both get dried and dressed and Link left by taxi without another sound. There would be a text later on. Something quick and simple to let Rhett know that he got home safely, and nothing more. They’ll see each other on their usual days and talk about <em>anything</em> but this because that’s what two men did when they’re terrified. They smile as if they were eating pieces of glass and ignored all the blood. Until the pain got too great, and they either healed the wounds or melted away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tuesday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you everyone for such encouragement with this little story. Also thank you to sohox for their lovely first look beta read!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The second time was a denial. </p><p> </p><p>A stalling tactic that both of them knew how to whittle into a sharpened point and aim at the weaker parts of the other. Always ready to strike if the mood got too tender or their smiles lingered for too long. Rhett armed himself with cups of warm coffee and important looking notepads to give his hands a reason for the movement. The light scribbling sounds of the pen on lined paper a muffled out death cry because Link was both too far away and way <em> way </em>too close. </p><p> </p><p>It was about ebb and flow. Catch and release. A two-man play that they knew all the lines to and performed it like pros. It was just a matter of getting their rhythm back. Figure out a way to erase the visions of what Link looked like when he was opened up like a desert bluebell.  His legs and arms seeking the heat that only Rhett could provide. </p><p> </p><p>Rhett's left leg bounced as he squeezed his eyes shut, and <em>dared</em> them to form tears. Not now when it was too bright for Link to notice. Rhett should have suggested a better time to go over the next week’s work schedule, but he couldn’t risk what Link’s profile did to him when bathed in the beginnings of moonlight. </p><p> </p><p>Link took that opposite approach. His body hardened into stone whenever Rhett caught his eye. A deer trapped in the headlights of the careening 18-wheeler of whatever the <em>fuck</em> happened, and he was prepared to smash against the windshield if that’s what it took. He only feared how much of the life that flashed before his eyes would include Rhett. He already had half ownership of Link’s memories anyway, so of course, he’d be there. All wet lips and dry humor. Cracking jokes with the southern charm that Link would mainline into his bloodstream if such a drug existed. </p><p> </p><p>The thought of it pulled something loose between Link’s second and third ribs, and he found it even more difficult not to press into it. To make sure that it was only in old wives’ tales that a heart could physically break and kill a person. </p><p> </p><p>If he survived a broken pelvis, he could survive this as well.</p><p> </p><p>At some point, Rhett had made his way to the stove. Hoped that food would be the distraction that they both could ingest. Gave his hands another chore to do to stop them from shaking, and it worked just long enough to scoop spoonfuls of richly spiced chili into two bowls. The smell of it lead Link into Rhett’s tiny kitchen. Their knees bumping underneath the rickety table as they chewed and swallowed down their grief. </p><p> </p><p>If they were stronger, or perhaps even weaker, they’d fight this. Push the silence away from each other and towards the rest of the world. Put on combat boots and smear war paint under their eyes and attack all the slurs and block out all the disappointed faces. Instead, they pretended that this was all normal. Completely normal to taste every part of your best friend and act as if it was some sort of fever dream brought on by too much alcohol and not enough restraint. </p><p> </p><p>The scrape of Link’s chair as he got up to put his bowl in the sink reverberated in the room. Rhett shifted in his own chair as he watched Link reclean the same dish three separate times. Each pass more focused and frantic and <em>this</em> was what happened when Link became too overwhelmed. The telltale glitch in that amazing mind that caused the tiniest speck of food to mock and ridicule his need to make everything at least <em>appear</em> to be pristine. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe that’s what caused Rhett to take hold of Link’s hands. To stop the destruction of one of the only two bowls that Rhett had left in his pantry. The splash of water as the bowl fell into the metal basin and then the subsequent shatter as Link twisted around and looked up into Rhett’s darkened eyes. The kiss was deep and desperate. It sizzled sentences on the edges of their lips and Link groaned as Rhett lifted him up and into his arms. Link’s legs found homes around Rhett’s hips as he was carried through the house and into the bedroom. Rhett groaning as Link broke the kiss just long enough to pull off Rhett’s shirt and throw it to the carpeted floor. </p><p> </p><p>The creak of the bed as Link wiggled and squirmed. His hands lifted up over his head as Rhett unbuttoned his jeans and pulled himself out. Link moaned at the sight of being so wanted for so many years, and his cock twitched in unison. Shoes and socks littered around them as they suddenly were both hard and naked. </p><p> </p><p>“Shower?” Rhett asked, though it more seemed to be a statement. A secret tiled garden for them to play in and then lock back up with the proper key. Link kissed him rough as an answer and was back in Rhett’s tight hold, and a moment later a blast of hot water hit Link’s trembling shoulders. Then the coolness of the back of the shower as Rhett pushed him there and took hold of his erection. </p><p> </p><p>Liquid fire flowed through so many veins, and perhaps they were dead already. Desire could do that if it settled into the bones for too long. It could rot and fester on the vine before properly plucked and eaten raw. </p><p> </p><p>“You feel too good to be <em> real </em>,” Rhett whispered into Link’s inner thigh, and Link gasped out a sound that might have caused Rhett to come on the spot. That same sound that Rhett had heard on a lost Monday that had been discovered once more, and he would be damned if it wouldn’t make him just as drunk as that day. </p><p> </p><p>Link widened his stance to give Rhett more room to explore. The apology for not doing more so close to the surface that Rhett needed to kiss it away. So he did. He began at the top of the dark tufts of curls and continued the path until Link bucked into his mouth. The salty sweetness that Rhett could live off of for centuries.</p><p> </p><p>“Come here…” Link slurred, and Rhett was pulled off with a slide, and Link tasted himself on Rhett’s lips. The shared insistence in each tug of hands and wettened fingers until they both found their prize. The slickness of what love can do, even if that word was never uttered. The release of what both of them accepting the way that they belonged in the curves of each other’s shoulder blades. </p><p> </p><p>The second time was a denial. </p><p> </p><p>A cruel game of hide-and-seek that occurred when boys became men in the blink of a lifetime. From carving out curse words on the desk of a dusty classroom of back then to scratching confessions into the sides of shower soft skin of a Tuesday. </p><p> </p><p>The thrusts became more shallow as they raced each other to the finish. Their breaths in puffs of heat that rivaled the swirling steam around them. The heel of Rhett’s hand pressed so gently against Link’s balls as he witnessed Link try not to lose what was left of his mind. Link’s own grip a rapid push and drag on Rhett’s dripping cock. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” Link screamed, and his grip suddenly faltered, but Rhett didn’t care. He instead tilted his head down and Link yanked at the ringlets of Rhett’s soaking hair. They climaxed at once and the sensation of Link’s fluttering hole around Rhett’s index and middle fingers threw the Earth off its axis as they doused each other in waves of release inside a closet of secrecy. Both of them knowing that this had to stop, but neither of them knew how the hell to do it. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Wednesday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry about last week. Ended up getting ill and fell behind, but this chapter is complete! The next chapter will be tomorrow as usual. Thank you again for your patience!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The third time was an addiction. </p><p> </p><p>An itch that invaded at each of the surfaces the other one touched, and they scratched whenever the opportunity arose. Any assurances that they could reverse time to the status quo erased by the dancing of tongues. Their hands the perfect excuse to claw at the craving, until they were drenched and crying out for mercy that didn’t deserve to arrive. </p><p> </p><p>It ached to yearn like this. To have an incessant murmur that repeated the same mantra into the lines of their spines. That <em> invade me </em>pulsed between muscles and crumpled up kisses. Skin cells and hunger that collected underneath fingernails that no amount of soap could scrub away. </p><p> </p><p>They circumvented their public outings like proximity mines. The danger of discovery was the best aphrodisiac that money could buy. In the sudden surge of what occurred when boundaries exploded from the inside out and each pant became a proclamation. </p><p> </p><p>They were doomed, but they barely cared anymore. Not when shirt buttons flew in all directions and rained down in a heady storm. The inevitable fall just over their shoulders but they fucked as if parachutes might appear out of nowhere. Rescue them from their own guilt-filled need to crawl into the other one’s ribcage. To get so near that they shared the same blood flow along with the shared orgasms, and it was getting harder to justify that this was just some every once in a while experimentation.   </p><p> </p><p>Not when they’re naked and writhing and catching the other one’s breath. Saving those puffs of carbon dioxide for later when they were alone in their own private lies. Sprawled out on separate mattresses like blasphemous crucifixions. Their cocks in their tunneled hands and coming undone until they met up again to properly sew up the heartstrings. </p><p> </p><p>Sex outside of their homes became a gun with only one bullet in the chamber. The sudden knock on a door tantamount to the suicide of everything they created out of blood, sweat, and tears. Link became attuned to each of the sounds that their crew made as they tried to connect all the dots. The quiet mutters that slowly evolved into speculation, and it took all of Rhett’s strength not to just <em> scream </em>. Half trapped in what he and Link needed to keep protected but so tired of the weight of this on his already strained back. </p><p> </p><p>They weren't built to be like this. Too slender to be draped in so much lust. It hung off of them like clothing that hadn’t been properly tailored, and it was just a matter of time before they’d rip through the last of their modesty and the extra layers would fall away. A slow-moving insanity that invaded those hard to reach places, and their hands and mouths became the best tools to loosen that knot in the back of their throats. That cluster of phrases that slowly gathered throughout the day, and later coughed out inside a shared shower. The echoes of moans the final way for them to both know that they couldn’t preserver through this type of torture. </p><p> </p><p>Not with the way Rhett’s hair caught the rays of sunlight the mornings after, and Link had to stay a little longer. Just to remind himself that it was real. That <em> they </em> were real. That Rhett wanted him enough to risk so much. The spread of his splayed fingers was always enough to get Rhett to grunt into wakefulness. The slight shake of the tentativeness that made Rhett’s heart clench for the man above him. Blinking down with those blue eyes in that same way that over thirty years ago pulled Rhett into a sea that he had been lost in ever since. </p><p> </p><p>This morning it was yet another rush. A way to dull the agony until they could their way back into the darkness. Link turned on the water and Rhett fell in step behind him. The larger hands groped the slight curves and relished the sounds that Link’s lovely mouth produced. It helped for Rhett to allow his eyes to flutter shut, so they seemed to be caught in a rainstorm. Link’s gasps while Rhett nibbled and sucked as the thunder roared all around them, and washed away all the terror and pain of what came once they broke the surface. </p><p> </p><p>Link held on. As if Rhett might just disappear. That he might blink into nothingness and that made him squeeze tighter. To make sure that Rhett never let him go, even after this newest round of hedonistic fury had subsided and they stepped out into the world again. All hidden tears and broken sobs left to circle in the shower drain. </p><p> </p><p>The heat of his kisses rivaled the steam, and Rhett was as solid as ever. Heavy hands that molded themselves into the fragility of what this was. The name of it almost spoken out loud but kissed away <em> just </em> in time. The happy ending destined to be a physical act instead of a metaphor. </p><p> </p><p>Rhett turned Link around, and their bodies slid into place. Link’s breathy lips parted as he finally relaxed, and begged for more. Rhett replied with a mighty push. His chest heaving as he plunged himself into the tight heat wished to stay there. Enveloped in the searing glow of when you find your soul inside another. </p><p> </p><p>“More…” Link grunted. His voice was low and hoarse as if he barely could push out his command. Rhett pressed him up to the back of the shower wall and drove himself in deeper. The muscles in his back twinged, but he didn’t worry about anything but the man he was inside. Because a living creature can only take so much distance for only so long. The crave to give and take the only actions that matter now, and Rhett wanted to be the only one who could do this to Link. To have him sigh and keen with another nudge towards the peak. </p><p> </p><p>The slap of skin on skin was a symphony, and Link listened in to every note. Hummed his favorite sonatas when it was safe enough to not be overheard.  The whirl of sounds and sights and smells all absorbed in a flurry that had him finding stars when he closed his eyes. The slight sting replaced by a bloom of warmth that Rhett soothed into another burst of thrusts. Tenderness in the need, but fierceness in the want, because Rhett <em> always </em> knew what Link needed and wanted. Had been able to read his thoughts since they chased each other on dusty back roads. Always demanding to touch but not understanding why it was so important. </p><p> </p><p>The movements became more erratic. Rhett did whatever Link told him and then enraptured at the results. This was what Rhett was always good at. Taking the smallest speck of beauty and nurturing it until it took root into something even more gorgeous. Link called it a magic trick, and for once Rhett didn’t brush off the compliment. </p><p> </p><p>Rhett felt himself buckle as he spilled. His legs shook underneath him as Link took each pulse with a satisfying sound. As if Rhett was filling him up with something that would last more than a random Wednesday, and Link swallowed it whole. A silky slickness that made him gasp with relief. A final kiss brought Link to the brink and then it was over, and they both groaned as one. </p><p> </p><p>The third time was an addiction. </p><p> </p><p>They might not make it through to the end. Most addicts didn’t. They withered away as the next hit was only a couple of inches from their mangled hands. The oath of<em> one last time </em> that got softer as they reached out for the vice that would eviscerate them. A fire that they juggled completely unprotected until they succumbed to the flames. The leftover ashes a stark reminder to not ever unlock that door unless you are prepared for what’s on the other side of it. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Thursday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There was such a long delay in continuing this and I am so so sorry. Life and such, but I do promise that this along with my other stories have not been abandoned. Shorter chapter this time around, but it will all be leading to more. Thank you as always for your amazing patience. 3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The fourth time was an endurance. The last beat of a heartbeat that Rhett passed onto Link in the form of half swallowed moans before and after each show ended. The promise of talks died on the vine before they even had the room to blossom into actual conversations of where they go from here? If either of them truly knew what </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span> really meant. Instead, they brushed it all aside in favor of just touching each other. The insides of thighs replacing the vagueness of what happened when the heat of the other side of the mattress drew cold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rhett was supposed to be the braver one. It was a foregone conclusion that he had Link had agreed upon while they were too young to understand even the concept of forever. The stories of North Carolina caked onto the bottoms of their feet as they ran onto country roads. Both laughing at jokes and trying desperately to hold hands only when no one was watching. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet now over thirty years later they still hid. Rhett hummed tunes into the nap of Link’s neck while Link slept on. A whisper of so much more in every part of the room but never on anyone’s lips because it hurt too much. Like a heart being engulfed in fire until it became nothing more than soot, yet it still had to keep both of them alive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Misery and ecstasy interweaved so that an outsider wouldn’t be able to tell one from the other. Even if they pondered for a thousand years, and that was the way it had to be. Rhett just needed to be strong and patient. Perhaps there was a way to circumvent through the beautiful disaster that laid snoring in his arms. Dark hair flecked with silver that reminded Rhett that stars occasionally left whole constellations to nestle elsewhere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link fared no better in this. His only true moments of connection existed when Rhett was touching any part of him. Electricity that tingled his skin like the satisfaction of the sun before the realization of a sunburn, and that pain and pleasure was what drove him over the edge every single time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That he was allowed to not to always be charming and roguish when crying out in his climax. The fact that Rhett had seen every ugly part of him and still stayed, and did so with no need to repeat that Link was enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fourth time was an endurance. The ticking of the seconds until Link pulled out another excuse as to why this wasn’t the right time to put all of his cards on the table. Rhett would nod his head in quiet sympathy and Link wouldn’t meet his eyes. Then they would part until one of them would finally explode.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The residual grey matter splattered along the bathroom walls as Link was put back together with every snap of Rhett’s hips. The water cascading on top of them as they wrestled with so much. If there was a way through this, it would be surrounded in overthrown vines with sharpened thorns; both of them on their bellies and naked as they screamed. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Friday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My first update back after my self reflection in the Rhink fandom. If anyone is interested in what happened, here is the Tumblr post that spelled it out. </p><p>https://enterthetadpole.tumblr.com/post/639755873774878720/the-rhink-fandom-why-i-took-a-break-and-the-trail</p><p>Thank you to anyone who has stayed with the story, and for your loving comments and kudos. They have meant more than my writing heart can say. </p><p>Tad &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The fifth time was a finality. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cocking of a rifle reverberated across Rhett’s throat as he stroked Link for what he knew was the last time. They had talked about it until their hearts felt rubbed raw with the effort. That this wasn’t something meant to last for as long as it had. That they needed to stop with the force of a battering ram and pick the splinters out of their skin until they somehow healed through it all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rhett knew how to fit the pieces back together. He had done it for years. Pushed away all the agony and pathos with a silly joke or a war-weary smile and Link followed along. Took his laughter and held on until his knuckles turned white from the strain. They’d mimic what their friendship was until muscle memory was restored. The taste of each other’s salt washed away with enough toothpaste and time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that was a future predicament. Now there was only the lurch of their bodies cascading in water that mattered. The droplets that glistened like sunbeams down Rhett’s waves of hair onto the freckled torso of the best he ever knew underneath him. They pivoted and thrust. Exhausted by the walls they held up for way too long. Water kept its neutrality. It washed away and covered up in equal measure. Eroded mountains and created forests, so how would two men stand a chance?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link opened his mouth in a frozen scream that was answered by Rhett’s scorching lips. A mist broke through from the connection for the tipping point to at last give way. Link chased it like oxygen. His lungs were given away to the man groaning above him over thirty-five years ago, and he never looked back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fifth time was a finality. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The crescendo of a song that went on past the curtain call. The music as slow and melodic as their swiveling hips. Rhett’s hands aligned in the most tender of areas to thrum out notes against the lines of Link’s throat. Make him sing like a sparrow swept up in a cloudburst, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Christ</span>
  </em>
  <span> could he sing. Turn the tears into something less unbroken and guide them somewhere even better than home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rhett ached for the injustice of it all to disappear. To make the idea of them together more palpable to the tastebuds to those around them, but that wasn’t what was meant to happen. Not now, but never. The redness of the words blistered on the soles of their feet and it hurt too much to ignore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The flex of their death was a whisper. A sound only heard by the two people lost underneath the terminal velocity of what happened when you didn’t just fall in love, but you crashed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And no one cared to see it. </span>
</p>
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